The law detects, grace alone conquers sin
by helsbels90
Summary: When a rich businessman is murdered in Whitechapel, Reid, Drake and Jackson find themselves searching for the truth and justice once more. Mrs Grace Holland is embroiled in the case through no fault of her own, can the law save her? Can she save one of the law in return? Rated for possible violence and reference to it. Please read and review
1. Chapter 1: Old Faces and New

**Chapter 1: Old Faces and New.**

Author's Note: Not strictly in keeping with the 2nd series of Ripper Street. In this fanfic Drake has not got married. Also there are probably a lot of terrible errors in terms of historical fact and characters – my apologies for this but I love the series and this idea popped into my head. Hope you can forgive and enjoy, please R+R.

Sergeant Bennet Drake shrugged out of his coat, huffing and puffing as he hung it on the coat rack by the door of the office. He blew onto his hands in a feeble attempt to warm them. Detective Inspector Reid appeared in the doorway of his connecting private office and nodded a stoic greeting to his colleague.

"I reckon we will see some snow before the day is out sir." Drake raised his eyebrows to emphasise the seriousness of the circumstances, although neither of the men were surprised by the situation as it was after all late November.

"Jackson's finished his examinations of the body; he said he would brief us up here shortly." Reid explained

"Thank heavens for small mercies" Drake muttered. Reid huffed a small knowing laugh at his Sergeant, who was more than a colleague; a close and trusted friend was more apt to describe the mercenary with a heart of gold who assisted him in policing the wild streets of Whitechapel. There were few things the hardened soldier complained about, but the cold was definitely one of them; and the 'dead room' Jackson inhabited was always kept on the wrong side of cool. "Flight has been busy again I see" Bennet grinned as he picked up the paper that Detective Constable Albert Flight had left on the desk in the very early hours of that morning.

"Indeed, now we have a context in which to place the name and body we already had. The man was clearly murdered, now we must discover why." Reid acknowledged staring out of the window down to the frosty streets below, where the populace bustled about their daily chores.

"A nice address at which to live I must say; and his clothes were fine too sir. Our Mr Morgan was clearly well to do..." Drake spoke his thoughts out loud "So why was he found dead in the alley behind one of the most notorious public houses in London?"

"Precisely my question Sergeant" Reid enthused as he sat opposite his subordinate.

"He was found dead in that alley but I would say he wasn't killed there my friends" Captain Homer Jackson drawled, his trademark cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth as he spoke. "There wasn't much blood when we moved the body and he sure as hell would have pumped some out with a knife wound like that." He paused to exhale smoke in the direction of the two men who were listening intently. "The corpse was clean, the man looked after himself – we can all tell by looking that he was well fed, if you get my meaning. If I was a gambling man..."

"Which you are" Drake interrupted with a smirk

"I'd say he hadn't entered the establishment behind which he was found. Either our killer wanted the body to be discovered quickly; or they were too naive to realise how much business that alley sees and thought it would be kept hidden until daylight. " Jackson paused to light another cigarette and to perch on the corner of Drake's desk " Medically speaking Morgan died from a stab wound to the heart, death would have been instantaneous and the knife was big."

"Anything else?" Reid questioned.

"No – oh wait yes – rings"

"Rings?" Drake repeated.

"Yes my little parrot friend! Rings! He was wearing several gold and jewelled rings, if I was going to kill and rob a man I would certainly have pilfered those. This was no robbery." Jackson crossed his legs and looked satisfied with himself as he finished his observation. When they had first started working together Jackson and Drake had struggled to get along with one another, their hostility barely disguised, but over time each had reached an understanding of the other; so now any jibes were made and taken in jest and a mutual respect was clear between the men.

"Right you take Flight and visit the widow and immediate neighbours see what they have to say about the late Mr Morgan. I want to have a look at the alley in the light – Jackson you come with me" Reid issued instructions to Drake and Jackson respectively. Dutifully the men donned their coats and headed out onto the cold and dangerous streets.

It was early afternoon when Sergeant Drake and Constable Flight returned to Leman Street Station, both rosy cheeked from exposure to the elements, but eager to impart their new found knowledge with their colleagues. Jackson handed the men a measure of whisky in mug as they all sat together.

"Mrs Morgan is understandably distressed having just been bereft of her husband, she asserted that no one would ever have cause to be his enemy as he was so kind hearted." Drake began but was interrupted by the eager constable sat to his right.

"But as we were leaving..." Flight was cut off by a cough and a stern raised eyebrow from Drake, which implied he was to learn his place and wait his turn to speak. Bennet knew he was a promising officer and that he himself would do everything he could to encourage and mentor the young man; but he must also earn his chances which for the moment meant remaining the inferior of the group.

"We also spoke to some of the neighbours" The sergeant began starting off where he had left "There was a mixed response, mainly that the late Mr Morgan was stand-offish, churlish, bordering on rude to them but that they never had a cause to quarrel with him; he merely liked to keep himself to himself. The gentleman who lives directly opposite him had more to add though; he often sits in his front room and saw lots of comings and goings at the Morgan household. Now he said that quite often men, who he assumed were business associates, would visit the house; and that more often than not these men would only visit once or twice and came away with faces like thunder after arguing with the deceased." Drake sniffed and then took a sip from his cup "As Flight was so keen to report, as we were leaving the neighbours home a man by the name of Victor Fledging arrived at the Morgan's, not realising the fate that had befallen Mr Morgan, he was banging on the front door, shouting at the top of his voice and demanding to see the man himself" Reid leant forward in anticipation, his usual serious expression fixed on his face, eyes eager. Drake could always tell a good story. "Well given the state of poor Mrs Morgan and our ongoing investigation we took it upon ourselves to intervene. When we explained ourselves Mr Fledging was very forthcoming and told us all he knew about Mr Morgan and why he was stood at his door in such a temper." As if on cue, Jackson added more liquor to the sergeant's cup. "It seems Morgan was in the investment business, only his investments were not doing so well according to Mr Fledging; who himself found out at first light this morning that he had lost a considerable amount of money due to the advice and ministrations of the deceased. He's also heard rumours that a great number of schemes Morgan promoted and encouraged his associates to fund have all gone the same way – so there could be a great number of enemies to be found." He looked at Flight and decided he had waited long enough to have his moment, the poor young man was almost jigging in his seat with eagerness to participate in reporting their findings. Feeling like a father indulging a young son, Drake sat back "Go on then tell them about the other information he gave us" Grinning from ear to ear Flight took the lead.

"Mr Fledging told us that finances weren't the only things in which Mr Morgan dealt. He has heard that if a businessman of some standing is in search of a wife, but has specific requirements, Mr Morgan is or should I say was in a position to arrange this for a fee. Fledging suggested that the fee wasn't always financial and that sometimes the brides were sourced from families who were in debt and had no way of paying off their arrears; he implied they were not always willing." For a moment the room remained silent as the men processed the information.

"Mr Morgan didn't always do business alone, he was associated with one Mr Holland" Drake added

"Interesting, clearly anyone who has lost a deal of money would have a certain motive for murder. Find an address for this Holland." Reid ordered.

"I've already got it sir" Flight held out a piece of paper

"Excellent thank you Flight" Reid liked the man's efficiency "You get up to the archive and telegraph room and see what information you can uncover on the man's dealings while we pay a visit to his business partner."

The house owned by Mr Holland was large and grand, it was also technically under another division, but as it was connected to a H-division case there was no need to notify another station. A neatly turned out maid led them into a richly decorated study and left them with the man of the house. Mr Peter Holland, was a portly man who was nearing sixty years old, he showed his wealth in his clothes and his countenance. As the senior officer Reid took the lead and explained the reason for their intrusion, to some extent but avoided voicing their interest in him; asking vague questions.

"I knew Bertram socially and not at all that well to be honest with you" Peter shrugged, ringing for the maid to return, when she did he told her to fetch his wife. "My wife has a much better recollection of these kinds of things than I – well women do don't they." Drake was looking at the titles on one of the bookshelves that lined the walls as they waited; he was expecting a mature, well rounded woman to materialize, instead he was shocked at the appearance of Mrs Holland. The woman who entered the study gracefully was no more than twenty-five, tall, slim and stunningly beautiful. Her dark blonde hair was artfully arranged at the back of her head and she lacked the pompousness of her husband. The thing that surprised Jackson and Drake most of all however was the look of recognition that crossed her beautiful face when she saw Edmund Reid.

"Grace, this is..." Peter began.

"Mr Reid, my goodness what a surprise!"Grace beamed at the Inspector, her husband was dumbfounded.

"Mrs Holland, it is a pleasure to see you again after all these years, all grown up – you were what fourteen when we last met. Drake you remember Harry Archway surely? Well this is his daughter." Reid informed Bennet "May I introduce my colleagues Sergeant Drake and Captain Jackson?" Grace dipped her head in greeting to the latter, then turned her attention to Drake.

"Sergeant I don't believe we ever met, but my father spoke of you so often and with such admiration that I feel as though I already know you!"

"Your father was a truly great man Mrs Holland and it was an honour to know and work with him. I was pleased to have known him and now I am pleased to know you" He tried desperately to sound polite and respectful to the woman he thought was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"Unfortunately I never had the pleasure of meeting the great Inspector Archway ma'm, but I have heard what a respected and talented officer he was. He is a hero at Leman Street still, I only wish I could have known him myself" Jackson expressed his genuine sorrow at the situation.

"Thank you both of you, will you take tea?"

"These officers are not here for a social visit my dear, they need some information from us" Peter interrupted tersely as his wife took a seat near the fireplace; he motioned for his guests to reseat themselves. He, however, remained standing and placed a possessive hand on his wife's shoulder.

"Oh I apologise, how can I be of service?" Grace inquired, Jackson began to mentally list the ways she could 'be of service' but then discreetly shook his head acknowledging that his thoughts were completely inappropriate. Reid frowned, wondering how best to explain the demise of their victim to a female.

"Inspector Reid is investigating the murder of Bertram Morgan, dearest. I have already explained that I only knew him from my club and that we saw him socially occasionally, but I can't recall the dates, I thought that you might be able to help." Peter explained to his wife, she looked up at him before returning her gaze to Reid.

"I believe we last saw Mr and Mrs Morgan at the end of last month, they dined with us here, before that I couldn't say. I could find the exact date if needs be." Grace answered.

"We were led to believe that Mr Morgan and your husband were involved in some business together, do either of you have any notion of why that would be?" Reid continued delicately.

"No idea at all I'm afraid my dear fellow" Peter half chuckled, "Holland's a popular name – maybe it is another man who shares my surname."

"Mrs Holland?"

"I'm afraid I can't help you Inspector, my husband does all his business at the office and as I said we rarely saw the Morgan's and never in relation to his work."

"Well thank you both for your time and your help" Reid said as he stood readying to leave.

"Mr Holland are you familiar with the Horseshoe Inn?" Drake acted on his instinct, which had served him well in the past.

"No, it doesn't sound like a place I would frequent Sergeant. I've never even heard of it." Peter grinned a sickly smile.

"So you wouldn't have been anywhere near there yesterday night?"

"No I was here with my wife Sergeant, wasn't I?"

"Yes, my husband was here all of last evening, I would have known if he had left" Grace agreed, but she made the mistake of looking at Bennet as she spoke, he saw the sorrow and fear in her eyes, saw the guilt; saw the lie.


	2. Chapter 2: Confessions

**Chapter 2: Confessions**

"What a woman!" Jackson grinned shaking his head, as the trio made their way back to Leman Street.

"Mrs Holland isn't a woman, she is a lady – just you remember that" Drake snapped out, striding ahead of the American, who stopped grinning like a small child and became sulky.

Once back within the privacy of the office Reid reviewed the events and revelations of the day with his cohort. Throughout the conversation Drake remained silent, contemplating his earlier meeting with Grace and his instincts about her deception.

"Perhaps there is another Mr Holland connected to all of this and it is a case of mistaken identity. If Peter Holland was at home all of last night and had nothing to do with Mr Morgan's business affairs then we must search for this other Holland." Reid tapped his fingers onto the desk top in frustration.

"He could have got someone else to do his dirty work and commit the murder while he enjoyed his evening at home. Maybe his wife doesn't know they are connected in business." Jackson suggested

"She was lying to us" Drake finally said in a quiet voice. The three other men in the room turned to look at him wide eyed. He swallowed before continuing, feeling as though he was in some way betraying a woman he had barely spoken to "When she said he was at home, there was something in her eyes, her whole demeanour changed – she was lying to us and she really didn't want to."

"Her father was one of the best detectives this city has ever seen; she would have too much respect for him than to deceive officers of the law." Reid asserted almost arrogantly.

"I do not believe she wanted to sir, but make no mistake Mrs Holland was being less than truthful with us about her husband. That man treats her like a possession, not only was he providing himself with an alibi, he was flaunting her to us. Certainly he did not predict that you were known to the lady. She looked to him before speaking to answer a question, she fears him and he rules her." Bennet explained.

"I'm with Drake on this; Mrs Holland was scared into lying. There was some bruising on her cheek – old; and fading but powder will only cover so much. She also winced slightly and held her side as she sat – to the trained eye that would suggest bruised or damaged ribs. I would say that that lovely lady" Jackson looked to Drake to emphasise he was using the correct terminology "is used to covering her discomfort." Reid rubbed a hand over his chin in contemplation, he had always relied on Jackson's expert advice, but he sometimes forgot that Bennet was excellent at reading people in ways he was not; he silently chastised himself. Across the room Drake was sat staring at the floor, deep in thought, he was struggling to resist the urge to return to the Holland household and have a few 'words' with the ogre of a man.

"Well unfortunately gentlemen as you know we can do nothing unless she requests our assistance, it is late, we should regroup in the morning and decide how to go about discovering Mr Holland's true position within this mystery."

"It does not feel right sir. Her father was the best of men, she should not be treated so." Drake stated as he left, a sad expression marring his face.

Both Drake and Reid had slept badly, their thoughts occupied by their late friend and his daughter; along with the details of the case they had been assigned.

"We need to gather more details on Peter Holland, discover what his business dealings entail, especially as he was so keen to distance himself from Morgan in every possible way." Reid asserted, as Drake rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. Sleep had evaded him the previous night, every time he had closed his eyes his mind had been filled with visions of Grace, sad and vulnerable in her own home, living in fear of her husband, ridden with the guilt of lying to her late father's friends. Her eyes had said so much while she herself said so little.

Most of the morning was spent trawling through files and old cases in an attempt to ascertain as much information as possible on Mr Peter Holland. Drake was sent to collect coffee for the Inspector from Sergeant Artherton on the front desk; he was glad of a chance to stretch his legs. As he reached the foot of the stairs he overheard the conversation he was having with a woman whose back was to Bennet.

"Ahhh Sergeant Drake this lady here was after Inspector Reid, perhaps you could be of assistance" Artherton suggested as he moved to retrieve the coffee. The mystery lady turned and Drake found himself smiling instantly at the familiar face.

"Mrs Holland, how can I be of service to you this day?"

"Sergeant Drake, how lovely to see you again. I have a note I wished to leave for Mr Reid, perhaps I could trouble you to be so kind as to pass it on for me." Grace motioned to the small envelope in her hand, holding it out towards him.

"The Inspector is in his office and I am sure he would like the chance to bid you good day, in fact I doubt he will forgive me if I allow you to leave without him first doing so." Drake smiled, his bright blue eyes adding genuine kindness to the expression. Grace could not refuse, nor did she really want to and so followed his lead up the staircase and towards the office of Inspector Reid. Jackson and Reid stood as she entered ahead of the sergeant.

"I do not mean to disturb you gentlemen I understand you must be busy, I merely wanted to deliver this note to you Mr Reid. It is relevant to your investigation I believe."

"Please sit, now you are here perhaps you can tell us the message yourself madam?" Reid suggested as Jackson placed a chair behind the young woman. Obediently she sat, tentatively avoiding eye contact with any of the men in the room.

"It was somewhat easier to write, than it is to orate it before you now. Inspector, I lied to you – yesterday at the house. And for that I am truly sorry, but I had little choice. My husband" Grace paused trying to find the right words to continue "My husband also deceived you, he was out the evening of the murder. He and Mr Morgan were involved in business together, in fact he was employed by my husband, although I am sure it will be difficult to trace and prove."

"Please go on – anything you say will be in confidence" Reid pressed, Drake nodded slightly, smiling and causing his nose and eyes to wrinkle.

"Peter is a lawyer by trade and owns a large firm here in London as I am sure you already know. Mr Morgan was in the business of arranging investments and advising people on financial matters. He persuaded men to invest substantial amounts in overseas schemes that he advocated were sure to make profit tenfold. Only the money was never invested, the clients would receive word some months later that unfortunately due to circumstances beyond control their money was lost. In the meantime another agent working for my husband would have befriended the client and now that they were in difficulty would offer them a friendly loan, on good terms with no interest." Grace took a deep breath, looking at her hands as they sat tightly clasped in her lap. "Another few weeks would pass and then they would demand their money back with a high level of interest and they would produce a counterfeit contract for the loan, apparently signed and verified by my husband's firm and so legally valid. The men are ruined and so my husband has gained their money through fraudulent dealings but has also gained their servitude."

"Do men not hear of the constant failings of Morgan's advice?" Drake queried.

"Many keep quiet about their situation in an attempt to retain their standing, but if they do make a fuss, Morgan is simply moved to another area to start all over again."

"Blimey, it is a clever scheme to be sure" Bennet pursed his lips, absorbing all of the information.

"There is more. Some men can escape their servitude to Peter through a type of exchange. If they have daughters of marriageable age. Through the late Mr Morgan my husband arranges marriages of men with means who are looking for biddable brides. Some of them approach him in search of ladies with certain specifications – some want obedience, others money and many already have wealth but need the standing an association with a family of status can provide. Others – well others have lewder requirements" A blush spread across her smooth cheeks at the mention of such a subject.

"We had heard something of Morgan's matchmaking skills." Reid began but Grace interrupted him with vehemence.

"Matchmaking? It is nothing of the sort; these women are blackmailed into the unions in order to prevent the ruin of their families and loss of their homes." She swallowed "I am sure you like many have pondered why a young woman would choose to marry a man nearly three times her own age." As she paused to take a deep, steadying breath Drake clenched the fists that were positioned at his sides. "After my father's death I went to live with my uncle in the North, he is another one of Peter's investment agents, but he is also a gambling man. He had spent everything, mortgaged and loaned against our home and even lost the little inheritance my father had left me for my comfort and pleasure. My now husband called at the house, my aunt and I had never met him; but when he came to dine no expense was spared – even though we had nothing. After spending only three hours in my company he spoke with my uncle, said that he would pay off all the debts he had surmounted, if I were to marry him. Two days later the marriage took place – I was not even consulted." The shame was evident on her face.

"And he strikes you?" Jackson questioned quietly, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Grace narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion and confusion.

"Captain Jackson is a medic Mrs Holland, and an expert on identifying injuries." Reid explained

"Sometimes it does not matter how obedient and meek I am. If he ever found out that I had delivered this information to you..." Suddenly her head snapped up and her eyes met Reid's "He keeps detailed ledgers of all of the money taken and the women he sells. In the study, behind the bookcase Sergeant Drake was studying yesterday, there is a concealed cupboard – locked at all times. But if you could get hold of them then you would have proof of the fraud and connection to Mr Morgan."

"Is there any way you could get hold of these ledgers?" Jackson asked, Drake scowled at him.

"I do not know where the key is kept and even if I did, I cannot leave the house without my husband's permission and he would surely know that I was the one who removed them."

"And where does Mr Holland think you are at this moment?" Drake worried.

"I asked if I could call on Mrs Morgan to pay my respects – which I have already done. And now I really should be leaving. I am sorry that I cannot be of any more help gentlemen."

Bennet walked their informant to the front entrance of the station; he was amazed at her strength and courage. Before she left through the door, he placed a hand on her arm.

"If you ever need anything, anything at all – please come to us. Any of us will be more than happy to do anything we can to help you." The sincerity of the sergeant's words touched Grace's heart and almost caused the dam holding back her tears to break.

"Can you make my husband disappear?" Grace gave a small chuckle, and Drake felt as though the warmest sunshine was shining on him – in truth he would like nothing more than to visit Mr Holland and break both his legs, and his neck to boot "I thank you for the sentiment Sergeant Drake and I will remember it!" With her promise Mrs Holland departed.

"Technically all we need is an excuse to enter his house and then accidentally stumble across the hiding place." Reid asserted.

"The very concealed hiding place – Reid think about it – he'd know in a second how you discovered it!" Jackson reasoned.

"Now we know what he is about perhaps we could gather evidence in another manner – then find the ledgers" Reid continued as Drake returned to the office.


	3. Chapter 3: Saving Grace

**Chapter 3: Saving Grace**

As the cold November evening set in Drake sat in the laboratory with Captain Jackson cataloguing the clothes and belongings that had been with Bertram Morgan's body upon his death. Both men had had several measures of whisky in their coffee's to warm themselves as they worked in the chilled atmosphere of the room specifically designed for Jackson's use. Stretching out his aching back Drake yawned loudly and rubbed his tired eyes.

"Go home Drake. There is nothing here that cannot wait until the morning. Sleep man!" Jackson said through his own stifled yawn. Nodding his agreement the sergeant stood to leave carrying his hat in his hands as he wound his way through to the reception area to make his way home. A home he no longer looked forward to reaching; it was comfortable there was no denying it – but for some time Bennet had felt that something was missing from the rented rooms he called his to make it a home. Running a hand through his dark hair he saw Artherton's protégé behind the counter; it was one of the usual desk sergeant's rare evenings off. He also noted the usual creatures who frequented the station on such a night, the poor souls trying to find warmth and those waiting for news of friends and relatives who had been offered an invitation to the cells which they could not refuse. Drake dismissed a woman sat with her head in her hands in some distress, hair loose around her shoulders, which were heaving with sobs as one of the many waiting her turn for attention.

"Good evening Sergeant Drake, A good night to you sir." The much younger man said with too much cheer. The woman gasped as she heard the name of the sergeant who passed by her without realising her identity.

"Sergeant Drake!" The plea was barely audible, above the racket of the others, but Drake recognised the voice and the desperation in it, sobering instantly. He was shocked as he turned to look at the woman he had labelled as poor and insignificant, sat on the end of one of the benches lining the walls.

"Mrs Holland. Dear god what has happened here?" He knelt in front of her and handed her his clean handkerchief to use on the cut to her forehead, from which blood was running down her face. A purple bruise was already visible around her right eye and the corner of her lip was split; blood had already congealed on the wound to cease the flow. The young officer cleared his throat from behind Drake

"The young lady arrived a short time ago sir, she has been asking to see Inspector Reid, but he has left for the evening. I explained as much but she refused to leave." He explained.

"So knowing that I was still here, you decided to leave her to sit bleeding and distressed in the cold, is that it Constable Lowdham?" Bennet fumed, removing his coat to wrap around Grace's shoulders as she was not wearing a coat of her own; ignoring the excuses muttered by the reprimanded young man. "Come with me, Mrs Holland and we will have Captain Jackson attend to you, he is just downstairs. You boy – send for Inspector Reid!" As she stood Grace retrieved a small carpet bag from next to her feet, Drake wrapped an arm around her waist to support Grace's shaking form and led her down to the 'dead room'.

Tears fell freely down Grace's cheeks as Drake half carried her into the laboratory, where the unsuspecting Jackson was preparing to leave. His eyes widened in surprise as he watched his friend deposit the injured woman into a seat, Jackson removed his coat and instantly started assembling instruments and equipment to deal with the injuries before him. As Jackson tended to the cut on her forehead Bennet crouched next to her, Grace had still not released one of his hands.

"I never thought to ask for you – when I was told Mr Reid wasn't here I panicked and did not know what else I should do. My mind was so muddled." Grace tried to explain.

"You probably have a mild concussion, from the blow to your head – do you feel nauseous at all?"

"No, but I do have a headache." Grace answered Jackson's question, still shivering from a mixture of cold and shock, so the American retrieved a thick woollen blanket to provide the warmth she needed.

"What on earth is going on here?" Reid boomed as he ran into the room, panting from the exertion of running, Grace jumped at the loud sound and he offered her a smile of apology which then turned into an expression of concern.

"Can you tell us what happened Mrs Holland" Bennet encouraged quietly.

"I returned home this morning, my husband was already there. He asked where I had been as he had called at the Morgan's on his own way home and found me absent. I told him that I had called at the church and walked to get some air." Grace let out another sob as she recalled the incident.

"He didn't believe you?"

"I am not certain that he detected the lie, I think his anger stemmed from my failure to ask his permission to go elsewhere after seeing Mrs Morgan. But he swore he would not do this now..." Grace trailed off as Jackson turned his attention to the deep cut on her forearm. "When I came to he had left for his club, but I suddenly remembered having once seen him replacing the lid of an ornamental jar on the shelf near his desk – there was no reason he should have been near it; and I could not tell you why that thought came to me at that moment. "

"Did your staff not assist you?" Drake interrupted in surprise

"They know better than to help me, those that try soon learn that my husband is to be obeyed in every matter" Grace explained "I looked in the jar and found the key to the hiding cupboard. The ledgers that you need are in that bag there"

"This arm will need to be stitched – and I am afraid that it will be painful." Jackson advised quietly readying his needle.

"I cannot return home now, I realised as I was sat upstairs that he will know what I have done and will never forgive me. I must now disappear."

"We will do everything we can to aid you madam – have no fear that you will be alone in this" Reid assured the frightened woman who sat in front of him. As Jackson began to sew the sore flesh back together Grace struggled to remain silent, she buried her head into Drake's proffered shoulder; and even when the stitching was finished she remained there crying quietly.

It was decided between Reid and Jackson that Grace should be removed to Tenter Street where no one would look for her and that an officer should be stationed outside her door at all times. They also knew who would be first to volunteer to offer his protection. They re-entered their office to find Grace warming her hands by the fire, calmer thanks to the warmth and the assistance of the large serving of brandy that had been procured for her. The Inspector explained their plan for her safety, and she was happy to go along with the idea; Bennet was less than happy when he was informed that Flight was to take the first watch so that he could get some rest – although the condition that he could take that rest in the home of Long Susan pacified him somewhat.

On hearing the woman's predicament Susan was more than happy to accommodate her and led her to one of her better rooms with a small sitting room attached that she could use exclusively and for the duration. As it was at the top of the house the landing was private and chairs were provided for both Constable Flight and Sergeant Drake to use. The ex-soldier was awake early the next morning and was surprised to find that Grace was already awake and ready for the day when he entered the sitting room with a tray of tea and toast.

"Good morning Mrs Holland, I hope you are feeling better this morning."

"Morning Sergeant Drake. Can I ask that you stop calling me Mrs Holland? It no longer feels right." She smiled, perching on a chair next to the table. "Will you join me?" Drake nodded

"What would you prefer? Perhaps Miss Grace?"

"I'd rather you just called me Gracie but something tells me you wouldn't allow it?"

"That I would not, Miss – you are a lady and the daughter of a fine man, I could not in all conscience use your given name alone." Drake smiled as he watched her pour the tea and hand him a dainty cup and saucer. She winced as the movement pulled her stitches slightly.

As the day progressed Grace found that she liked the sergeant more and more, he spoke earnestly and was entertaining company. After a light lunch they both sat by the fire reading, Drake had removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeve and Grace couldn't help but stare at the tattoos covering his arms.

"You were once a soldier were you not?" Grace broke the silence

"That I was, for many years, in many places."

"I always dreamed of travelling. I once had a maid who would sneak books and letters in and out for me, and she brought me a book written by a man who had travelled to the most exotic of places. He described the sights, sounds, smells and tastes – it was fascinating. Peter did not approve of such topics, but sometimes when things were bad, I would close my eyes and imagine that I was the one travelling and adventuring; but dreams were all they were." She explained.

"Would you like me to tell you about Egypt?" Drake surprised himself with the question, he had not spoken of his time there to anyone for many years; but he could tell Grace about the pleasant experiences he remembered, he felt as though he would bear his darkest secrets to her if it meant she would smile again. Grace sat listening to his every word in awe and enthralment, asking question upon question about the people and culture he had encountered. She made him view the time he had spent in Egypt as a positive, as he blocked out the awful memories that still haunted him. When she asked about his tattoos, Grace was again absorbed by the stories behind them and asked about the process of having them imprinted.

"You are one of the very best of men Sergeant. I only wish I could have met you sooner." Grace told him in earnest as they ceased laughing two hours later, when Inspector Reid arrived. He explained that he, Jackson and Flight were still traversing the ledgers in order to procure the proof they needed to arrest Mr Holland and that some other evidence may have come to light regarding the murder of Mr Morgan.

"If he was indeed responsible for the murder he will hang Mrs Holland" Reid explained solemnly, "it would appear that Mr Morgan was skimming money off the investments clients were making. Your husband had worked this out according to the records he kept."

"Peter would not have liked that Mr Reid. He expected absolute loyalty from his associates" Grace admitted from where she stood near the window.

"He also came to us to report that you had gone missing – he suggested that you had been abducted as there was no reason for you to run away." Reid informed her "We made no effort to suggest otherwise and took a statement from him" Grace who had paled, suddenly gasped and a hand flew to her stomach. Drake who had been stood mere yards from her darted forward and took her arm.

"You are in pain Miss Grace?" His face creased into a frown.

"No not pain." Grace tried to assure the worried man. Jackson had also stepped forward to provide assistance.

"Was it the first movement you've felt ma'am?" He smiled knowingly, Grace eyed him in wonder "I sensed it last night – you mentioned Mr Holland had promised not to attack you again for some reason, and Susan confided in me that you had been queasy this morning. And now this." Drake's eyes flitted between the two people before him processing the revelation.

"This is first fluttering I have felt, Captain – it is why I was so surprised. I hadn't dared to believe it real until now."

"Then whilst the circumstances may not be congratulated, I congratulate you madam! " Jackson squeezed her hand.

"So your husband knew that you were expecting when he assaulted you Miss Grace?" Bennet questioned in disbelief. "Then I cannot wait to apprehend him myself. And in the meantime we must take extra special care of you!" He added kindly.


	4. Chapter 4: Distractions and Developments

**Chapter 4: Distractions and Developments**

Author's note: I hope that anyone reading is enjoying, reviews greatly appreciated and any further chapters I write will be a bit more cheerful!

The next day Sergeant Drake returned to Leman Street whilst Constable Flight was tasked with watching Miss Grace. The grizzled sergeant was struggling to concentrate on anything work related, his mind kept wandering back to Tenter Street and the beautiful woman who was lodging there. With some trepidation he realised that his mind was not the only thing roving; his heart was leading the way. He had known her only days, but already he was aware that the feelings he harboured towards Miss Grace were stronger than anything else he had ever experienced. On his route to work everything had reminded him of her in some way, the shade of the sky was exactly the same colour blue of the dress she had worn the day he had first laid eyes on her. The red of the drapers shop sign he passed was precisely the same as her lips; when he spotted some dried flowers being offered for sale he wondered if Grace's cheeks would be of the same pink hue after walking on a crisp winters morning such as this. Would she prefer summer or winter? Or spring? Or autumn? As Sergeant Artherton offered him a mug of coffee he questioned whether Grace liked coffee as he had only ever seen her drink tea. It was an endless cycle of memories and questions.

"Drake. Drake! Drake!" Reid repeated to get the attention he was searching for. On the third call Bennet looked up and appeared startled to find his boss staring at him. The inspector rolled his eyes at Jackson who grinned.

"I bet I know what is distracting the illustrious Sergeant Drake so much. " He teased, puffing out a cloud of smoke."And she is sat in my house as we speak"

"I don't know what you are talking about man" Drake tried to sound nonchalant.

"Come now sergeant let us not distract further. We have a witness to the disposal of Mr Morgan's body – his description matches that of Mr Holland" Reid enthused.

"See how that cheers him Reid – if we can secure this prosecution, Miss Grace will be a widow and free to do whatever she likes."

"I was thinking nothing of the sort – merely that she will be free of him and happier for it." Drake defended himself as Jackson trotted off sniggering."Before you say anything sir, I have no intention of pursuing Miss Grace, whether her husband hangs or not."

"Then it would be a great shame Sergeant. I believe she is very much taken with you"

"A woman like that would never look twice at a man such as me. She sees me as a kind soul is all."

"And kind souls seem to have been in short supply since Harry passed, you have far more to offer and many other attributes to recommend you than you think Bennet."

The witness helpfully described a man matching Mr Holland's description leading the discarding of a large bundle in the alleyway shortly before the body was found. Along with the evidence from the ledgers that Grace had provided Edmund Reid was certain that they had enough evidence to prove the man guilty of murder amongst many other things. They were in high spirits after persuading the man to offer his testimony in court if needed, when they returned to Leman Street.

"Sir, Sergeant" Artherton attracted their attention apprehensively."You are required urgently at Tenter Street"

"What's happened there?" Drake demanded

"One of the girls ran over to inform us that there had been an incident involving Mr and Mrs Holland. Captain Jackson is already there assisting" Before Artherton could draw breath to continue Bennet had run from the building at full speed with Reid struggling to keep up in his wake.

As he entered the lavishly decorated house, Susan accosted him, attempting to calm him down.  
"Is she hurt? What occurred?"

"Grace's husband found her here, he barged in and up the stairs. When he found her he was in a terrible rage; she is hurt – but she will recover." Susan said seriously

"Where was Flight when all this was happening?" Drake demanded as Reid finally reached the premises.

"The timing was unfortunate but even a man on guard has to relieve himself. He came as soon as he heard the disturbance, he fought with him and Mr Holland ended up tumbling down the stairs." Susan nodded towards the mound covered by a worn blanket at the top of the first flight of stairs. "There was nothing we could do for him, he broke his neck in the fall."

"Miss Grace and Constable Flight?" Reid urged.

"Your man is concussed and has cuts and bruises. Miss Grace was not so lucky, she is still unconscious, I'm taking these up to Jackson now, follow me, she is now in my room." Susan explained leading the way, allowing Drake to carry the bag required for her. Tentatively Bennet entered the dimly lit room, eagerly looking to Jackson who stood by the bed for news, before his eyes flew to the bruised face of the sleeping Grace.

"He did a good job of it before Flight could intervene; she looks like she's been in the boxing ring for ten rounds against a champion." He explained quietly

"And the child?" Bennet asked, Jackson shook his head sadly, grimacing.

"Gone I'm afraid. I've given her some laudanum, it's best she sleeps through as much as possible – when she wakes she will be in considerable pain my friend" Jackson placed a hand on the sergeants shoulder "Perhaps you would stay with her, I believe yours is the face that she will be happiest to see at such a time."

Reid nodded his agreement, and they left Drake to take up another sentry duty in a comfortable chair next to the bed, eyes fixed on Grace's face searching for any sign of discomfort or consciousness.


End file.
